


The Blue Eyed Stranger

by perunamuusa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel aka The Blue Eyed Stranger, Happy Ending, Vigilante!Dean, a bit angsty so I have heard, i'm not good with tags, murderer!Dean, slight graphic depictions of violence/gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1721309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perunamuusa/pseuds/perunamuusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s what made everything worth it. It made him carry on, got him out of the bed in the morning though self loathing weighted his shoulders, but today something broke. Something that he would never be able to quite fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blue Eyed Stranger

The first time Dean Winchester met the stranger, they were both covered in blood and something Dean necessarily didn't even want to name.

 

Dean was holding a machete, the same one he had used just moments ago to gut the monster, currently lying lifeless on the concrete, no longer recognizable from its face nor teeth. Those had been scattered all over the place when Dean had planted his fist to the monster’s face. The face had looked awfully human when it was still intact, but Dean knew better than let the looks deceive. He knew it had been a bigger monster than he ever was, and Dean had enjoyed greatly when he had gotten the chance to rub its belly with his knife.

 

He had been thorough with the job, as he always was. Kill it once to get things started, kill it twice to make sure, thrice for the team, four times for fucks sake, five times because better safe than sorry. Every time he would smile, happy that the world would be rid of yet another monster, happy because he could get to end its life, get to enjoy its last moments, get to see the fear and pain in its eyes, before he would kill it again.

 

It’s what made everything worth it. It made him carry on, got him out of the bed in the morning though self loathing weighted his shoulders, but today something broke. Something that he would never be able to quite fix.

 

Dean usually didn’t have an audience, but unfortunately today he did. The stranger had been in the same building as the monster and Dean hadn’t noticed his presence before it was too late and his face and knife were already painted red with blood.

 

Now the monster was dead and Dean was coming down from his high, when he noticed the stranger standing few meters away. Dean felt the stranger’s blue eyes nailed on him and it made his skin crawl with the realization of what he was in the eyes of… normal people. He wondered how he still cared, he thought he had get rid of that a long time ago.

 

He avoided looking the stranger in the eye, waiting for screams and accusations, but they never came. The stranger just kept staring at him and the body like there was nothing wrong in the scene.

 

“You seemed to enjoy it,” the stranger noted after a while. “Do you do this often?” he asked and Dean wondered if he was in shock or was there any other reason why he was so calm in this situation. There was blood even on him, people should be scared for less.

 

“Kinda comes with the job…” Dean replied and turned to look the stranger in the eyes, “When you do a job like this, enjoying it is the only way to keep yourself somewhat sane...” Dean noticed the sad tone in his voice, already feeling the hatred for himself, but the stranger said nothing back. He felt naked, he wanted to get out of there away from the stranger’s intense stare, but he didn’t move either and for a short moment they just stood there without saying anything.

 

After a while the stranger broke the silence by asking, if Dean was wounded.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“No, you’re not,” the stranger said and Dean didn’t argue or even look at him. He cleaned the remains of the body and when he finally turned around he noticed the stranger was nowhere to be seen, like he had never even been there.

 

Later Dean would go to his hotel room and drink till he would fall asleep and there would be no room left for unnecessary thoughts and memories.  

 

*

Few weeks later, Dean met the stranger again.

 

He was states away from that cellar of an abandoned apartment building. Dean had never expected to see the stranger again, but there he suddenly was, sitting in the same table as he in the local diner.

 

There was questions, the regular ones you ask in these kinds of situations, the stranger didn’t give an exactly good answer to none of them. His answers were vague, but so was Dean’s.They talked for awhile and not even once the stranger mentioned what had happened weeks before. They just talked about things that people normally do and Dean cautiously let himself enjoy it a bit.

 

After some time the stranger said he had to go. He wished Dean good luck before leaving him alone to his table at the diner.

 

Later that evening Dean would realise the stranger had called him “Dean” before leaving even though he had never told his name.

 

*

The third time Dean met the stranger, once again far away from where he had last seen him, he was not sure if he was even surprised anymore.

 

Again, they talked. Nothing else and nothing important, but it was nice and Dean decided he liked it and when the stranger said he had to go, Dean was kind of upset, but he butchered that feeling quickly, not allowing it to spread any further.

 

Tomorrow he would have a dead body next to him, blood on his blade and he wouldn’t be sure if he enjoyed it as much as he used to.

 

*

Some time later these events would repeat again and again. Weeks would pass and Dean would accidentally run into the stranger. They would talk and part ways before they would meet again few weeks later.

 

At some point Dean would start looking for the stranger. He would not be aware of this himself, but his eyes would always be unconsciously looking for the stranger and his trench coat. He would smile when he would be greeted by the stranger’s shy smile and “Hello Dean”. He no longer would be able to ignore the warm feelings inside his chest and the big hole full of doubts, hatred and loneliness right next to them.

 

He would look forward to the time when he’d see the glimpse of the familiar blue eyes and the old trench coat again.

 

*

Dean took less and less jobs and his hands were rarely covered with blood anymore. The stranger started to appear more often and Dean hated himself more after every time. He felt dirty in the eyes of the stranger and he didn’t want to feel that way.

 

Dean hoped the stranger would say something about his job, how his job is to kill and end lives, how he enjoys it which is why he’s no better than the people who he hunts. The stranger never said anything. He would still greet Dean with small smile, still be happy to see him. It would make Dean feel like he was worth of something, but when he would get back to his motel room and see the bag of weapons spread open, he would have to surpass a sudden urge to shove one of them to his guts and give his life the end it deserved.

 

As he would try to drive those thoughts away, Dean would think how he never understood the stranger.

 

There was just too much blood on his hands.

 

*

 

One day Dean would finally see what broke in him all those months ago.

 

He would see the bloody handed monster in the mirror and he would hate it. Usually he embraced it, because to fight a monster you need another monster. He was proud of what he did and it made him happy.

 

Now he felt like the things he killed for living. For fun.

 

He would remember the blue eyed stranger, who didn’t seem to see this monster he was. He would remember, how he felt human at the presence of this stranger, how he felt like the person named Dean Winchester, with human parents, human brother and emotions that are very, very human.

 

Dean would kill the monster he had become. He would kill once more, before never again.   

 

The mirror shattered to thousand pieces when Dean winchester drove his blade right through it.

 

*

“I quit.”

 

Those words Dean gave to the stranger, when he saw him again. After he had murdered the monster he was and given the human, Dean Winchester a new chance.

 

It had took him months to find the resolve to get those words out and the will to live by them. He didn’t want to kill anymore, he didn’t want to enjoy killing anymore, he wanted to do normal things with normal people, he wanted to live. He held a piece of the broken mirror inside his pocket as a reminder of this promise.

 

In return the stranger had given him the biggest smile Dean had ever seen on his face and for that moment Dean really thought he could change for better. If he really wanted this, he could do it.

 

The stranger said he was happy for him and wished him luck with his new life.

 

That day would be the last Dean would ever see of him.

 

*

It had been years since Dean’s decision to start anew.

 

He had his own small house now, with small kitchen and bedroom. He worked at the nearby garage and lived quiet life alone, occasionally seeing his little brother, the one he hadn’t talked with many years, and even some friends he had managed to get at work.

His past was still with him in the nightmares he got almost weekly, but he was getting better. He was better. Even through all the regret and loathing, the mirror shard he kept on his nightstand didn’t show a monster anymore.

 

Dean’s eyes still occasionally betrayed him, and sometimes they were looking for the familiar shade of blue and the trench coat. He never expected to see the stranger again, because he had a feeling there was no need for that anymore. He was not the same man holding a bloody machete at the cellar of an abandoned apartment building.

 

Dean never told about meeting the stranger to anyone, not even to his brother. He knew, his little brother would say it was Dean’s guardian angel or something, and Dean didn’t want to hear any of it, because he had played with the thought too. Many times, but since he had never believe in angels, he didn’t intend to start now. He was still happy that he met the stranger, whether he was actually real or not.

 

Dean sometimes found animals with otherworldly blue eyes sitting on his porch when he got back home from work. One day it would be a bird, next a stray dog. Next week he could find a cat or a mouse, but he always spared food and some of his time to these animals. He would sit down and tell them how he had been doing while they ate.

 

The animal would leave and Dean would carry on his day, glad that he was alive.

 

 


End file.
